Elizabeth was jarred out of her unpleasant reverie when the man who had talked with her mounted a horse, and began riding away with the others. She stiffened when he yelled something over his shoulder at her—that he would look her up later, and he would like to “acquaint” himself with her body.
“The pig,” she whispered, cringing at the thought of this crude man’s rough hands on her.
Yanking the heavy basket from the rear of the buggy, Elizabeth stomped up to the prison door, then stopped and took a nervous breath before placing her hand on the latch.
When she composed herself she lifted the latch, and took a shaky step across the threshold. What she encountered made her want to turn around and seek the haven of her home as quickly as possible. Never had she seen such filth and gloom as crowded this small, outer room. A bearded man sat behind a crude desk piled high with yellowed papers and journals, his booted feet resting on the edge.
She grimaced when their eyes met, and she felt ill when he leaned his head sideways and spat a long stream of chewing tobacco into a large and tarnished brass spittoon that had strings of tobacco dripping down its sides.
Elizabeth stood stiff and unresponsive to how this man was looking at her as he slowly pushed himself up from his chair. He hooked his thumbs through red suspenders that held up soiled, black, baggy breeches. A red-plaid shirt was stuffed loosely into the waistband.
Elizabeth looked slowly around the room, at the peeling paint of the walls, and at the one filthy window that failed to let in any light through its dirt.
Her gaze stopped at the many small pegs along one of the walls. Keys hung from each.
She then saw a closed door, which surely led to the back where she would probably find the cells in even worse condition.
Her nose curled at the foul odor emanating from the sheriff as he stood before her, blocking her view. His beady eyes squinted above a thick, dark mustache that had chewing tobacco clinging to the tips.
“What’s your business here?” Sheriff Jed Nolan asked, his voice a growl. He glanced down at the basket clutched in Elizabeth’s right hand. “What’s in that basket? Somethin’ to help you break out one of your gentlemen friends, huh?”
Elizabeth didn’t get a chance to reply. The sheriff grabbed the basket from her and threw the cloth aside, and peered down at the books and fruit.
Then he looked slowly up at Elizabeth. “Books?” he said, tossing the basket aside, spilling its contents. “Fruit? Who are you, anyhow? What do you want here?”
Elizabeth stared blankly down at the spilled contents of her basket. Then a slow burn began within her and she turned angry eyes up at the man. “You had no right to do that,” she said, placing her fists on her hips. “I came here out of the goodness of my heart to help lighten the burden of those less fortunate. I pity those who are under your care. You don’t deserve the title of sheriff. I would think it would have to be earned. What have you done, sir, to earn it? But I’m sure I don’t want to know the answers. Such a man as you gets what he wants by—”
Elizabeth’s words were cut short when Sheriff Nolan grabbed her by the wrists and quickly wrestled her to the floor, where he proceeded to straddle her. “What are you doing?” she screamed, squirming to get free. “Let me up, do you hear? Let . . . me . . . up!”
The sheriff brushed her lips with a wet kiss, his body holding her in place as one of his hands went to the swell of her breast and began mashing it through the silk fabric of her dress. “You’ve got a big mouth,” Sheriff Nolan grumbled, staring down at her with lustful blue eyes. “Let’s see what else you have that I might find more pleasant.”
Elizabeth managed to get a hand free, raised it and slapped him across the face.
She sucked in a wild breath of air when she saw a sudden angry fire leap into his eyes. He in turn slapped her across the face, and followed by crushing her mouth with his hungry, wet lips. His tongue assaulted her as it pressed in and out between her unwilling lips.
And then, as quick as lightning striking, someone else was there in the room. Elizabeth saw a man, whose face was partially hidden behind a bandanna, strike the sheriff over the head with the butt of his pistol.
The sheriff collapsed unconscious on top of her. Elizabeth screamed and began pushing at his chest. The stranger yanked the sheriff off, tossing him away from her.
Elizabeth scrambled to her feet. Then she realized that she should still be afraid. It was apparent from his mask that the stranger who had saved her was not there for any good reason. When he stepped closer to her, she quaked.
Elizabeth stared at the hooded eyes above the bandanna, seeing something familiar about them. And when he told her in a whisper to leave, there was something about the voice that compelled her to want to see his face.
Without thought of the outcome of her action, Elizabeth yanked the man’s bandanna down, revealing his face. She became weak in the knees when she saw that it was whom she had thought it to be: The handsome Indian!
Sighing resolutely, Strong Heart pushed the brim of his sombrero back from his brow with the barrel of his pistol. “What you have done is me-sah-chie, bad. You shouldn’t have interfered,” he said with annoyance. “Now that you’ve seen me, I have no choice but to take you with me. I can’t leave you behind to describe me to the authorities. Why didn’t you leave when I told you to?”
Elizabeth was numb from the discovery. She didn’t understand when Strong Heart told her to get the keys from the sheriff’s pocket, then take them to the cells, and release the Indian, Four Winds.
When Elizabeth did not obey him, Strong Heart took a step closer and gestured toward the sheriff who still lay unconscious on the floor. “Hy-ak, make haste,” he grumbled. “Get the keys from the cultus, worthless man.”
“I can’t do that,” Elizabeth said, her voice quavering. “That would be breaking the law. I would become a criminal.” She gave him a glare. “Just like you. You’re a criminal, aren’t you? A renegade Indian, just like the Indian you want me to set free.”
“Nah, look here,” Strong Heart answered, bending to get the keys himself, “this is not the time to discuss who I am, or why I am here.” He turned his gray eyes up at her as he handed her the keys. “If we don’t get out of here soon, the deputy will arrive. I would soon be hanging alongside Four Winds. Is that what you want? That I die, also?”
The keys seemed like hot coals burning her palm. She glanced down at them, then up into Strong Heart’s eyes as he rose slowly to his feet.
Then, knowing from the depths of her heart that she wanted nothing to happen to him, she spun around and moved quickly toward the closed door that led to the cells. Strong Heart was suddenly there, opening the door for her. She stopped long enough to look deep into his eyes. She felt as if she were drowning in them, they were so dark with feelings that she knew were for her, for he had looked at her in the same way before.
“Set Four Winds free,” Strong Heart said, his voice soft, yet commanding.
Elizabeth swallowed hard and nodded her head, then stepped into a gloomy corridor lined with a long row of cells which housed both men and women. Hands reached out for her. Women cried and wailed as they saw her, begging her to set them free. Men cursed underneath their breaths. Then she caught sight of one who stood quiet, his eyes probing hers.
Elizabeth knew that this was Four Winds, for he was the only Indian inside this horror chamber. She stared at him, thinking that he looked no more dangerous than the other Indian. Yet being in jail was proof that he was a criminal—a criminal awaiting his death at the end of a rope.
Suddenly his face was replaced in Elizabeth’s mind with the handsome Indian’s. It was he who was hanging from the platform, not Four Winds. It was him swaying in the gentle breeze, the flies crawling on his dead eyes.
The vision spurred Elizabeth into quick action. She went to Four Winds’s cell. Clumsily she tried one key after another, sighing with relief when she finally found the one that fit, and set him free.
/> Many cries and jeers followed Elizabeth and Four Winds as they fled to the outer room. Elizabeth dropped the keys on the desk, turned and stared up into the handsome Indian’s face which was alight with admiration and gratitude. Then all three hurriedly left the prison.
Elizabeth didn’t object when she was placed in the handsome Indian’s saddle. She knew that she had no choice. She didn’t object when he swung himself into the saddle behind her, his arm circling her waist to hold her as he and Four Winds rode away.
Again, she had no choice.
She couldn’t believe this was happening.
These Indians were surely part of an outlaw gang.
Never would she have believed that he, this compassionate, caring man, could be an outlaw!
Strong Heart led his horse away from the streets of Seattle, and they were soon thundering through the dark reaches of the forest.
Suddenly Elizabeth panicked and began struggling to get free, but the more she squirmed, the harder the Indian held her. “Why do you insist in taking me with you?” she cried. “I can’t tell anyone your name. I don’t even know it. And after saving me from harm the other times, why would you harm me now?”
“La-daila, do you make it a habit to search for trouble?” he shouted over the sound of his horse’s hooves. “First I find you choking to death in a house filled with smoke, then almost toppling off a bluff. Then I find you half drowned in Puget Sound. And now I find you in a hellhole of a prison. Why is that, la-daila. Why is that?”
“What is this la-daila you call me?” Elizabeth shouted back. “That isn’t my name! My name is Elizabeth. Elizabeth Easton.”
His chuckle made Elizabeth turn to stare up at him. “What do you find that’s so amusing?” she asked heatedly. Yet, again, his handsomeness nearly stole her breath away. “At least I have no secrets about who I am. You have yet to tell me your name.”
“Secrets?” Strong Heart said, smiling down at her. “My la-daila, which means ‘woman,’ I have no reason now to keep secrets from you. My name? It is Strong Heart. I am Suquamish. My father is Chief Moon Elk.”
“Does your chieftain father know that his son has turned into a renegade who sets hardened criminals free?” Elizabeth taunted. She was now his captive but she decided that she would not cooperate with him one bit!
“Ah-hah, my father knows of my plans to set Four Winds free, and he approves,” Strong Heart said, giving her a stern look. “For you see, Four Winds is innocent of the crime he is accused of.”
Wanting to believe Strong Heart and not wanting to think he was just a criminal lying to her to make his escape from Seattle easier, Elizabeth turned her eyes away in confusion.
But she did know that she was now a captive, something that even Strong Heart could not deny, for it was he who was her captor.
She glanced over at Four Winds, his shoulder-length brown hair flying in the wind as he leaned low over his horse. She had to wonder, what sort of crime had he been accused of? How could she not think that he might be capable of anything?
She looked away, fear freezing her thoughts. Strong Heart could be a liar. Although she had never seen him be cruel, she did not really know him. He could be a renegade.
If so, what would become of her?
He seemed adamant against setting her free. How long would he force this upon her?
What if it was . . . forever?
She had fantasized about being in Strong Heart’s arms. But not under these conditions. The fantasy had lost its sweetness, as she was taken farther into the unbroken wilderness, a mist rising eerily from the floor of the forest.
Chapter 8
My heart has left its dwelling place,
And can return no more.
—JOHN CLARE
Bone tired from the long ride, Elizabeth was relieved when Strong Heart and Four Winds finally stopped for the rest of the night. Embarrassed that she had been forced to go into the bushes to take care of her most private needs, she strolled back to the campsite and ignored Strong Heart as he glanced her way.
Yet she had no choice but to sit down beside him on a blanket spread across a patch of soft moss.
Still not giving him the slightest inkling that she knew he was there, sitting so close to her, Elizabeth sat stiffly against a big, downed sycamore tree which was half buried in the ground. Her eyes feasted on fish skewered on sticks over the hot coals of the fire that Strong Heart had built. She had watched in awe as he started a fire without matches. He had used a flint and a stone to strike with and a spongy piece of dry wood. She had sat, shivering from the damp chill of night, as he had struck the flint against the rock until a spark flew out igniting the wood.
Then Four Winds fashioned a spear from a tree limb. His fisherman skills honed as a child became quickly evident after he had smilingly brought a string of fish to the campsite for their supper.
The aroma wafting from the fish cooking slowly over the fire caused Elizabeth’s stomach to emit a low, lazy growl.
This had drawn both silent Indians’ attentions to her. Embarrassed, she turned her eyes away and tried to focus her thoughts elsewhere—especially away from Strong Heart and how he sat so close to her, so close that if they should turn to face each other, their breaths would mingle.
But it was hard not to think about him. And although she was angry at him for having taken her captive, she could not deny that the excitement of the adventure of being with him was giving her strange, glorious feelings that until tonight she had never experienced.
But now she was in the wilderness, free from her father’s watchful eye, and stern, commanding voice, and having been attracted to Strong Heart from the first made her fear her feelings for him. She was glad that Four Winds was a part of the group. For, if she were totally alone with Strong Heart, she did not know what she might expect from him, or herself.
She already knew the wonders of his touch, of being held in his strong arms, and the thrill of the heat of his breath on her face and lips. Alone with him, she might forget all that she had been taught about being a lady. She would perhaps learn what it meant to be a woman, with needs of a woman.
Shocked at where her mind had wandered, Elizabeth again tried to change her thoughts. It was a cool September night, with lightning flashing luridly over the mountains in the distance. Elizabeth gazed around her at the groves of tall, slim pines which stood majestically sprinkled with stars. Only a few feet away, a swift-running, sweet-singing trout stream coursed. Strong Heart had chosen this beautiful campsite which seemed like a woodland cathedral, roofed by the open skies, and where wave and rock and tall pine met.
It was a place of serenity, yet Elizabeth could not feel that serenity within her heart, for again her thoughts had traveled back to Strong Heart and the dilemma in which she had found herself.
Strong Heart had not said much to her during their flight from the prison. She had to wonder if he was reconsidering keeping her captive.
The thought that he might set her free frightened her, for they were now many miles from Seattle, and she would not be able to find her way back alone.
And he did not dare return with her, for surely a posse had been formed to search for him and Four Winds and herself. It was possible that she was considered an accomplice. The sheriff would not know the truth, for he had been unconscious.
Elizabeth started when a stick with cooked fish at its tip was thrust toward her. She turned and looked up at Four Winds, who was offering it to her.
“Eat,” was all Four Winds said.
Elizabeth accepted the skewer and nodded a silent thank you. Four Winds had been quiet since his release. He and Strong Heart had not even discussed the escape. There seemed to be a strain between them, and Elizabeth could only surmise that it was because Strong Heart and Four Winds were not so much friends as allies in crime. Surely if they were close friends, they would have been warmer to each other.
At the moment she only truly cared about the hungry ache in her stomach. Elizabeth tore
at the fish with her teeth, giving Strong Heart a sideways glance as he also began eating from his stick.
When he looked her way, she turned away from him, embarrassed by how her hunger was making her forget her table manners. She was so hungry, she yanked the fish from the stick and began stuffing it into her mouth with her fingers, then blushed when she found two sets of eyes on her. She offered Four Winds and Strong Heart a weak smile.
Having eaten all of her fish, Elizabeth wiped her mouth free of grease with the back of her hand, then opened her ears to the conversation that had started between Strong Heart and Four Winds.
Four Winds squatted before Strong Heart and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. He began earnestly, saying, “Strong Heart, mah-sie, thank you for what you have done for your childhood friend. Your silence since the escape proves that you do not yet fully trust that I am free of guilt for that which I was about to be hanged. Trust that I am. Feel good in your trust.”
“My silence was caused by many things,” Strong Heart said, giving Elizabeth a quick glance, then focusing his attention on Four Winds. “Many things trouble me, and, ah-hah, part of that is my doubt about your innocence. But knowing you from childhood, I cannot see you as anything but innocent. When I spoke with my father about breaking you free, he hesitated, yet agreed with me that you should be saved. Prove to me, old friend, that you have earned our trust. Do not allow yourself to be taken prisoner again by the white man. The hangman’s noose would not go empty a second time, for this friend of yours would no longer be a friend.”
“Four Winds will remain your friend, for Four Winds will never give you cause again to risk your life for his,” he said, humbly lowering his eyes. Then he raised them and looked into Strong Heart’s. “I must now go my way alone. I will flee high into the mountains until I feel it is safe to surface again. This I do not only for myself, but also for you. As long as I am with you, your guilt in helping me escape could be proved. Without me, you are just another Indian to the white man, for no one witnessed your part in the escape.”
Wild Embrace Page 8
